


but instead I am here

by LailaLiquorice



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Death, Emotional Baggage, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Late Night Conversations, Survivor Guilt, and takes it out on kat, anne is an actual angel, chapter 2 is so soft, jane is very very very very upset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 09:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19742932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LailaLiquorice/pseuds/LailaLiquorice
Summary: It's no secret that Jane struggles with what happened to her son, but sometimes the guilt becomes unbearable.





	1. you're still an innocent

It was no secret that Jane struggled more openly with the loss of her son than the other mothers among the Queens did. Being so vocal about Edward during the show meant he was something she thought about a lot, and the all-consuming grief she’d struggled with during the first few weeks after reincarnation had led her to a support group for mothers who had lost babies as she’d done. While she’d frequently extended the invitation to Aragon, Anne, and Cathy to join her, they’d all gratefully declined and let Jane go to the sessions alone.

Even though her loss was different to the other members and nothing she could explain, it had been easy enough to lie to them all. According to them Edward had died at eleven days old – the age he’d been upon his mother’s death. When she’d first been asked why she’d kept it vague and said an infection, and when someone asked if it was meningitis she’d just said yes for simplicity’s sake. If someone shared a photo of their baby with her she said she found his too hard to look at, but would eagerly describe her beautiful baby boy with blue eyes and mousy hair. Nothing about that was a lie, and neither was the longing that never left her eyes as she spoke of him.

For the most part the sessions were helpful; she could talk of Edward without feeling like a burden on the other Queens who had also lost children, and learn of ways she could remember him without it hurting so much. But, a few months into her time with the group, there was one session which did the exact opposite.

It was one of the sessions where a psychologist would come in and speak to everyone in a group. The topic of the day was guilt, and from listening to everyone else Jane learned of the guilt they shared over their children’s deaths. How they’d all wondered if there was something they could have done more to save them, if there was something they had done to change what happened and save their lives, the survivors guilt of living through something which their baby did not. And by the end of the session, everyone’s smiles seemed a little freer as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

Jane had only listened quietly, burdened by the secret that she hadn’t been the one to survive. She barely registered the walk home as her mind whirled with unburied feelings, her subconscious twisting everything that had been said into something to attack herself with.

She felt guilty beyond words but for the opposite reason. She’d been the one who wasn’t strong enough. It was her fault that she’d missed out on everything she’d so looked forward to. She’d been the one to leave Edward alone.

But she put on a false smile when Kat and Anna greeted her at the door, hiding her shaking hands in the pockets of her dress as she waited for the kettle to boil. Anne and Anna’s friendly jabs at each other were distracting enough that no-one noticed the chinking sound of her favourite teacup rattling against the saucer as she took a sip. She smiled at Kat whenever she looked her way. She told herself she was fine, because she couldn’t let anyone see that she wasn’t.

It was Kat climbing onto the kitchen worktop to grab something on top of the cupboard that started the chain reaction which ended with her mask shattering.

“Get down from there Kat, you could fall and hurt yourself,” Jane scolded lightly, hoping no-one noticed the lack of conviction in her voice.

“But Anne’s allowed to be on the counter!”

Jane glanced across the kitchen ad Kat’s complaint, tutting at Anne who was sat cross-legged on the opposite worktop looking very smug. “Technically she’s not, but Anne has no concept of personal safety and therefore does what she likes,” Jane said, managing to smile when Anne poked her tongue out at her.

Kat gave an exaggerated groan, accepting Anna’s hand as she clambered back down to the floor. “Whatever you say, mum,” she said with a grin.

Jane didn’t smile. There was the word she’d always wanted to hear, the word which had taunted her endlessly all morning. _Mum._ But it was the wrong voice, the wrong time, the wrong face, the wrong everything. Her grip slackened and she barely flinched as she dropped her teacup, shattering into shards of porcelain and splashing boiling liquid all down her bare leg.

Before she could register what she was doing, she was sobbing into her hands in the middle of the kitchen.

“Jane!” came Kat’s frightened cry, accompanied by firm hands on Jane’s shoulders. “Jane, what’s wrong?”

It was impossible to answer through her sobs, hunching forwards to hide her face as Kat shook her shoulders to try and get a response. “Did I do something wrong? Please, it’s scary seeing you like this because you’re like my mum and-“

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

Kat stopped immediately at Jane’s hysterical interruption, taking a stumbling step backwards as her face fell with shock. Jane exhaled roughly at the sight of Kat’s distraught expression, unable to look at Anne or Anna who she knew were both watching the scene unfold as the guilt that had been building all morning multiplied tenfold.

With another half-sob she turned tail and fled, sprinting up the stairs before collapsing to her knees on her bedroom floor. Regardless of how hard she pressed her hands over her eyes she couldn’t stop seeing Kat’s face when Jane pushed her away, did everything that Jane had promised she would never do in the space of four short words. Not only had she failed Edward but now she’d failed Kat too. The reality of that made her tremble helplessly as she cried even harder.

She couldn’t bring herself to move when she heard her door being opened. A quiet sigh sounded from the doorway, before there was someone sat next to her with their knee bumping hers. “Hey,” said Anne, “d’you wanna tell me what happened?”

Jane didn’t answer her question, instead asking in a broken voice “Is Kat ok?”

Anne gave an unsure shrug. “I dunno, she seemed pretty shaken. Anna took her out on a walk.”

“Oh, God,” Jane sobbed, curling forwards and covering her face with her hands again.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Anne said, scooting closer so she could gently rub Jane’s arm. “People make mistakes, Kat’s not expecting you to be perfect. She’s still gonna love you.”

Jane shook her head, whimpering slightly into her hands. “I messed up. I took it out on Kat just because I miss Eddie and I feel so so bad,” she choked out between breaths.

Somehow Anne must have heard her words despite them being muffled by her hands, because she sighed again as she said “Oh hun, is this about Edward?”

Nodding, Jane managed to look up Anne despite her bloodshot eyes and the mascara she knew had to be running down her cheeks. “I feel so bad,” she repeated in a voice not much more than a whisper. “I left him. The reason why he grew up with no mother was my fault, I died and I left him Anne, I left him alone.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault at all,” Anne insisted, hugging Jane’s arm when she continued to shake her head. “Seriously. There was nothing you could have done to change anything.”

“I just feel so guilty,” Jane muttered, rubbing a hand under her eyes. “He’d have had a mother if I’d been stronger. And Kat, she’d never have suffered either because Henry wouldn’t have remarried. I failed both of them.” Her voice wavered as she trailed off, tears streaming down her face as she struggled not to break down again.

Anne frowned, tugging Jane’s arm to make her look at her. “Listen to me, Jane Seymour,” she said in a tone so severe that Jane was forced to pay attention. “None of it’s your fault. Would you have chosen that if you’d had the choice? No you wouldn’t’ve done. Shit happened to all of us and it’s not your fault. What do you think they’d say if they knew you were blaming yourself like this, hmm?” The question was accompanied by a pointed hum and a raised eyebrow, though she was still clinging onto Jane’s arm in an effort to keep her from spiralling again.

At first Jane thought of Kat, of the earnest look in her eyes when she’d told Jane that she didn’t blame her for anything. But then she thought of Edward, and the soul crushing fact that he wouldn’t even know who she was to say anything to her if he somehow had the opportunity. “He wouldn’t say anything because he wouldn’t even know who I am because I wasn’t there,” she said bitterly, shaking her head. She was quiet for a moment before adding in an agonised whisper “I never got to know him. I never got to say goodbye.”

“I know how that feels,” Anne said quietly, but when Jane looked at her expecting sadness or anger in her eyes she saw only a faint smile of understanding. “Hows about this then: would you blame me for dying and not being there for Bess?”

Jane shook her head, confused as to what her point was. “No, of course not. You were killed, you didn’t just die. It wasn’t anything you did.” The two situations were worlds apart as far as she was concerned; Anne would never have died if she hadn’t been taken to the scaffold whereas Jane’s death was all her own doing.

The self-content look on Anne’s face as she hugged Jane’s arm close didn’t help her confusion. “Exactly. Neither of our deaths were our fault so we can’t go blaming ourselves. I got killed by a sword, you got killed by bacteria. Don’t get me to elaborate on that though, that’s what our resident bookworms are for,” she joked with a wink.

She managed to smile faintly at that, knowing that Cathy or even Kat with their love of reading would probably know more modern science than either she or Anne did. But it dropped a little as she looked into Anne’s eyes, still able to find the shadows in her gaze despite her chipper smile. “You do blame yourself though, don’t you?” she asked tentatively, saying it out of concern rather than an attempt to undermine Anne’s reasoning.

Anne shrugged one shoulder, dropping her eyes from Jane’s face. “Sometimes,” she said, one hand hovering over the choker which she was scarcely seen without. “I try not to though. I know she didn’t blame me, Cathy’s told me that. So I try not to feel guilty.”

Jane nodded at Anne’s words. There was logic in what she said, something which surprised Jane in some aspects but didn’t in others. She knew as well as they all did that Anne was cleverer than she made herself out to be, both from their interactions in their past lives and her occasional genius comments that made it through the façade. She opened her mouth to say something else and shifted on her knees a little as she did so, but her words were forgotten when pain flared all down one shin and she let out a pained cry instead.

There was an instant look of worry on Anne’s face, taking Jane’s arms and helping her carefully stretch out her leg. Patches of red scalds marred her pale skin from where she’d dropped her tea earlier but completely forgotten about it with how distraught she’d been.

“Come here, let’s get you sorted,” said Anne, standing up as Jane just stared at the injuries on her leg. She blinked a couple of times before registering Anne’s hands in front of her, then let her help her stand and limp across the hall into the bathroom.

Jane sat quietly on the side of the bath with her leg under the tap while Anne ran around finding cold compresses and bandages, a shallow smile on her face as she muttered confusedly to herself while rummaging through the first aid kit. Normally Jane would have been up in arms at her organisation being messed up but she felt so drained she didn’t care, just humming a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ whenever Anne asked her a direct question. Her attentiveness was endearing, a reminder that Anne had been a mother too despite how she acted nowadays, and it was nice to see every now and then.

“There we are,” Anne grinned up at Jane as she finished, taping down the last bandage. Her smile faded a little as she saw Jane’s faraway expression, resting her forearms on Jane’s lap as she asked “Penny for your thoughts?”

She shrugged first, then sighed as she figured there was no point in clamming up now after everything she’d already said. “I should be here for my son,” she said in a monotone voice, “But instead I am here.” Fresh tears pooled in her eyes as she spoke and she didn’t bother blinking them away before they fell.

Anne gave a sympathetic smile. “He had people there for him though. He wasn’t alone, neither of them were.” Jane knew she was referring to Elizabeth then, and nodded concedingly. “Besides,” Anne added, “here’s pretty great, right?”

The hopeful smile on Anne’s face was hard to ignore. “Yes it is,” Jane said, managing to smile herself as Anne’s grin brightened. With a fond look at the younger girl, Jane placed a gentle hand on Anne’s hair and drew her hair away from her face as she said “Thank you, love. You’ve been wonderful.”

“Ah, it’s what we’re all here for,” Anne attempted to say casually with a nonchalant shrug, but her flushed cheeks and happy smile gave away how she was touched by the praise.

At the sound of the front door opening they both glanced towards it, Jane suddenly filled with apprehension at facing Kat again after how she’d pushed her away so harshly. Anne spoke first, standing up and offering Jane her hand again as she asked “You ready?”

Jane hesitated a moment before she nodded.

Kat and Anna were stood in the hallway when Anne led Jane down the stairs, and Jane immediately ran forwards to pull Kat into her arms. “I’m so sorry darling,” she said as Kat wrapped her arms around Jane’s neck and squeezed tightly. “I’m so, so sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was upset but I should never have taken that out on you.”

“It’s ok,” Kat whispered in Jane’s ear before they broke apart. “You’re allowed to be upset, you know? You just need to talk to us rather than keep it all inside,” she said, catching Jane’s hand and squeezing her fingers gently.

The smile on Kat’s face was enough for Jane to know she’d forgiven, and her guilt seemed to fall away along with the fresh tears that trickled down her cheeks. “My special girl,” she murmured, reaching out to catch the tears that fell down Kat’s own face.

Kat leaned into her touch for a moment, before suddenly turning to take a box from Anna. “We got you this while we were out,” she said almost shyly, holding it out to Jane and nodding for her to open it.

Beneath several layers of tissue paper was a new teacup to replace the one she’d just smashed, decorated with swirls and flowers in the six colours of the Queens’ costumes. “It’s beautiful,” Jane said, unable to tear her eyes away from it for several seconds before she could look up at Kat. “Thank you, sweetheart. And thank you too,” she added to Anna.

Anna smiled as she walked over, slinging an arm around Jane’s shoulders and pulling her close for a moment. “We saw it and knew we had to get it for you. But I’m still gonna tease you for still drinking from a teacup in the bloody twenty first century.”

Jane laughed then for the first time that morning, smiling warmly at them all as she wrapped an arm around Anna’s waist and Anne hugged her cousin from behind. “I think I can allow that,” she said with a chuckle, grinning brighter at Anna’s infectious burst of laughter.

It wasn’t the family she’d once dreamed of, back in the old times when they were awaiting her son’s arrival with such longing and excitement. But, when her tears were dried and she was sat at the table that evening with her four sisters and one daughter, she knew without doubt that it was the only family she ever needed.


	2. your string of lights are still bright to me

The summer sky was streaked with pink and orange as the sun began to set over London. The garden was quiet as Jane stepped out the back door, closing it softly behind her and padding over the grass in her bare feet to sit down on the bench. She’d been very firmly chased out of the kitchen after dinner so that she couldn’t try and help with cleaning up after the dinner, and if she listened closely she could hear the chatter of the other Queens as they cleared the table and did the washing up.

It was a nice kind of peace and quiet after the day she’d had. Her mind was quiet at last, no trace of the guilt that had dragged her into a breakdown, and the burns on her leg weren’t bothering her so much anymore. She still felt absolutely drained but she felt ok.

“Hey,” called the voice that had been her saviour all afternoon, and she turned her head to see Anne approaching her with a mug in each hand. “Just wanted to see how you were doing?”

Jane smiled, patting the bench next to her for Anne to sit down. “I’m alright, thank you love. I feel exhausted but certainly a lot happier than I did earlier. Aren’t you meant to be helping in the kitchen?”

Anne laughed at that as she sat down, handing Jane one of the mugs that turned out to contain hot chocolate. “Aragon sent me out here to make sure you’re alright, so I’m still kinda helping. She made the hot chocolate too, obvs.”

“Of course,” Jane agreed with a chuckle, taking a sip. Catherine was the official hot chocolate maker in the household and had been ever since their earliest movie nights, since she could somehow make it taste better than anyone else despite them all following the same recipe on the tin.

After a couple of minutes where they just sat quietly drinking their hot chocolate, Jane turned towards Anne again. “I meant what I said earlier,” she started, catching Anne’s attention, “thank you so much for how you helped me this afternoon. You really were wonderful.”

Anne gave a modest shrug, the exact same response she’d had when Jane initially thanked her. “Honestly, y’don’t have to thank me for that. Or anyone. You’ve done so much for Kat and for all of us, it’s only fair we get to help you too sometimes. And we don’t think any less of you for getting sad sometimes either, y’don’t have to go pretending you’re alright all the time.”

“Thank you love.”

Returning Jane’s fond smile, Anne took another sip of her drink before she seemed to sober up a little. After studying the contents of her mug with an indecisive look for a moment, she tensed her shoulders as if readying herself for something before asking such a hurried question that Jane took a moment to understand her words. “How on earth are you able to talk about him so much without it just making it more and more painful?”

After several seconds where Jane’s brain fought for the right words and Anne just squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze, Jane sighed softly as she shuffled a little closer to put an arm around Anne’s shoulders. “I don’t know,” she murmured truthfully, “I suppose I’ve become accustomed to it through the show. But you know how Heart of Stone made me cry during our first rehearsals, it hasn’t always been easy.”

Anne nodded. Both Kat and Jane had found their songs hard to sing at the very start, the subject matter coming too close to home for comfort. It was one of the factors that had made the two of them so close so quickly.

“Perhaps it’s helped in some aspects that I never got to knew Edward like you got to know Bess. Sometimes that hurts more, thinking of everything I missed out on. But you had enough time with Bess that you knew who she was as a person, perhaps that gives you more to miss than me.” Jane spoke quietly as she just voiced her thoughts aloud, hoping that something she said was of some help to Anne since her question simply wasn’t something she knew an answer for.

“P’rhaps,” Anne echoed, a faraway look on her face as she turned her gaze to the horizon. “Cathy tells me about her when I ask her to, sometimes it helps and sometimes it hurts.”

Jane tilted her head slightly in understanding. “And it will, love. Grieving is never easy, and I daresay ours is a little more complicated than most. But eventually you’ll find it easier to talk about her. And when you get to that point we’ll all be listening.”

“I just don’t want you all to think that I suddenly care about her if I start to talk about her one day.”

“Oh sweetheart, of course we won’t,” Jane shook her head, squeezing Anne’s shoulder. “We know you care about her, you don’t have to show it in the same way as the rest of us do.” Anne’s experience of being a mother had been obvious to Jane earlier when she’d taken charge easily to get Jane’s burns treated, and she couldn’t imagine ever holding it against her friend that she mourned her daughter in a different way to how Jane did.

Anne nodded in thanks, and when Jane met her gaze she was sure she could see tears beginning to pool in her shadowed eyes. They were illuminated clearly when the fairy solar powered fairy lights hung around the garden flickered on, and Anne met Jane’s gaze for a split second before she curled into Jane’s side and buried her face in the shoulder of Jane’s cardigan to hide her tearful eyes.

Jane chucked quietly, rubbing Anne’s back as she looked upwards at reddening sky. “You’re right though,” she said after a while, and Anne gave a questioning hum before Jane continued “Here is pretty great.”

“Yeah,” Anne said, lifting her head from Jane’s shoulder and rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. “It’s definitely great. We’re like crazy lucky we get this second chance, getting to do all the stuff we couldn’t do back then.” She trailed off with a smile, draining the last of her hot chocolate and putting the mug down beside her.

It was nice to see the light return to Anne’s eyes, and Jane readjusted her arm slightly to hold her closer before prompting her with “Like what?”

Anne’s face scrunched with thought for a moment before she said “I dunno, everything. And not just the show, the little things. Coming downstairs in the morning to smell someone making coffee. Staying up late reading. Going down to the pub and maybe drinking a bit much but I don’t have to be a certain way so no-one cares.” She paused for a moment, the ghost of a smile on her face, then added “And hugs,” as she wrapped her arms around Jane’s middle.

Laughing softly at her, Jane started to gently play with Anne’s hair as the younger girl let out a contented hum. “Hugs are certainly a good thing,” she agreed, knowing that there was nothing that could ground Anne better after her nightmares than being in someone’s arms. After another moment’s thought, she continued Anne’s list with “Being able to watch out for you all. Feeling part of a family. Cathy falling asleep on my lap, Kat letting me do her hair, watching documentaries with Anna, early morning conversations with Catherine.”

“You missed me out,” Anne interrupted when Jane paused for a split second.

“I’m not finished yet,” she scolded lightly, drawing Anne’s hair away from her eyes as she looked up at her through wide eyes. “I was going to say how we’ve been able to get to know each other as friends without anyone pitting us against each other this time.”

Anne was silent for a few seconds after Jane spoke, and for a moment she wondered if she’d made a mistake in bringing up their past rift. It had made building a friendship difficult in the first while after reincarnation, and while they were far beyond it now it was still something that plagued Jane whenever she had a sleepless night.

But then Anne met Jane’s eyes with a truly genuine smile and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s definitely a good one,” she said, resting her head on Jane’s chest and relaxing into her into her embrace.

They both fell into a comfortable silence then, Jane continuing to run her fingers through Anne’s hair as the sky darkened above them. She was starting to wonder if Anne was falling asleep in her arms when she suddenly shivered against the late evening chill, and Jane chuckled as she said “I thought you were falling asleep there.”

“I’m allowed to, you’re comfy,” Anne’s muffled voice sounded, and Jane could practically feel Anne’s laughter as she added “You’re mum shaped.”

Jane laughed softly at that. It was far from the first time Anne had made that joke; it had first appeared back when Kat’s maternal relationship with Jane was strengthening and then again when she’d first comforted Anne through her trauma-related anxiety and nightmares. It was Anne’s way of telling Jane how she thought of her as Kat did while keeping it light-hearted since talking about emotions was sometimes too overwhelming for her.

Anne was quiet again after that, settling back down against Jane’s chest. Even though it was starting to get cold Jane didn’t have the heart to rouse her yet, content with letting her stay in her arms as she glanced upwards at the sky. The first stars were beginning to appear above them, leading Jane to wonder if perhaps Edward and Elizabeth were looking down on them from high above.

She could only hope. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A part 2 requested by the sixcord after I made them all cry with chapter 1... they decided I needed to write something soft after the angst fest I’ve been supplying over the last few days. So here we have a part 2 to ‘but instead I am here’. It’s super super super soft bc I love these two so much and they need more interactions in fanfic :)

**Author's Note:**

> It’s angst time. Why is it that nearly every Jane-centric I write fic is just angst time??
> 
> Anyways, this is some pretty heavy angst with a happy ending in response to the ‘Jane and Anne angst’ request i received with the prompt ‘I never got to say goodbye’. My instinct was to have Anne be the upset one but then i had an idea inspired by listening to Come From Away so we’ve flipped the script here. The ask also suggested an optional Cleves so we have a little Anna at the end c:
> 
> My personal prompt with this was the cfa line ‘I should be here for my son but instead I am here.’
> 
> I'm lailaliquorice on tumblr :)


End file.
